Gingo Part2
Scott Mclean
Today’s story is going to focus more on my Uncle Gale or Gingo as I called him when I was younger.
Gingo gave me my first taste of beer. As with most young kids, I thought that was pretty good. I saw my Uncle pouring a drink out of another brown bottle and wanted some. I guess I got a little demanding so he poured me a little. Turns out it was whiskey and I spit it all over my Grandpa’s floor.
I never bothered him for beer after that.
He also gave me a puff of a cigar when I was 4 or 5. When I got done coughing I probably looked like a little green Martian.
As I’ve told you before, Gale was the Uncle who taught us what we shouldn’t have known.
Grandpa Sorenson was not a big drinker. In later years he started making wine. Some decent and some like his dandelion wine which should have been labeled toxic waste.
Grandpa’s house was right next to North Tieton road which was the extension of Summitview. He would hide Easter eggs for us every year. He called me monkey because I was always climbing trees. Steve was rabbit and Sandy was panda bear. She was 14 or 15 and not into egg hunts anymore.
She did something to tick me off so I quietly told Grandpa that she really missed hunting eggs. When Grandpa told her he had eggs hidden for her she immediately suspected me and shot glares and not so veiled threats my way. While she was hunting eggs and trying not to be seen by anyone she knew, I was at the corner of the house laughing my butt off.
She later threatened my health and well being for about the thousandth time!
The joys of being a teenager with a brother eight years younger. Lucky her!
Bye for now.